


Gory Flicks

by kibasniper



Category: Psychonauts (Video Games)
Genre: Bickering, Blood and Violence, Bonding, Canon Era, Gen, Mild Gore, Scary Movies, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 22:37:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15567891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kibasniper/pseuds/kibasniper
Summary: Bobby wants to watch his favorite movie, but as it turns out, Mikhail is watching his favorite movie at the same time.





	Gory Flicks

They shared a look of absolute disappointment. When Bobby stood at the top of the stairs leading into the lodge's television room, he could only look at Mikhail with half-lidded annoyance, which Mikhail returned in full. They remained quiet for a brief moment, sizing each other up until Bobby crossed his arms, setting his weight onto his left foot.

“Get out. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre is on soon, and I ain't missin' it,” Bobby ordered, hitching his thumb over his shoulder.

Mikhail's brow furrowed, and his grip on the remote tightened. He sat up straighter in his bean bag chair, replying, “Absolutely not. I was here first.”

Bobby scowled, stomping down the steps and snapping, “Too freakin' bad. Milla ain't here right now to nag at me since she’s havin’ her dumb extra credit class right now. It's the only shot I got to actually watch it without her chewin' me out. So, if you wanna keep your butt glued to your body, then shove it back to Russia!”

Mikhail yawned, and Bobby felt a vein sprout in his neck, irritation quickly heating his body. The Astral Warrior crossed his ankles, saying, “Poor insults and vague xenophobia aside, I will not. My favorite movie is on.”

“I don't know what xeno-what's-it means since it sure as hell doesn't sound like Xenomorph, but if you don't move then I'll-!”

A woman's scream startled Bobby, sending shivers up his spine and jerking his attention towards the television. To his blank wonder, a massive, monstrous grizzly bear was tearing a woman apart, ripping her to shreds in the outskirts of a forest. The woman's child was not spared, mutilated and shredded with the bear's enormous claws. As the little boy remained motionless on the grass, Bobby blinked, stupefied at the level of violence. While his preference for horror movies were gory and brutal, he had not expected Mikhail to be watching an equally violent feature.

“Is called 'Grizzly,' which is about a prehistoric bear boldly defending his territory from the invading tourists and hunters.” Mikhail gestured at one of the bean bags chairs. “You are welcome to watch if you like. Tiny boss was not fond of movie and left.”

“Yeah, that's 'cause he's a pansy unlike me,” Bobby grumbled under his breath. Catching Mikhail's narrowed stare, Bobby's thoughts wandered back to the parking lot where Mikhail held him captive in front of his two favorite bullying targets. His hands curled into fists as Mikhail returned his attention back to the television, evidently deciding to not be baited.

Bobby looked around and found the clock hanging on the wall surrounded by artwork from the other campers. He had a solid twenty minutes before his movie began, and his interest had been piqued by the beast's malicious murder of an innocent woman. Kicking a bean bag chair a few feet away from Mikhail, he slumped into it and crossed his arms.

Mikhail turned the volume up. Glancing over to Bobby, he asked, “Want rundown of what happened so far?”

“No,” Bobby spat, and Mikhail shrugged.

In silence, they watched the film. Bobby had to admit he was interested with the characters' desperate attempts to kill the feral monster. It was unlike his favorite horror movies but resonated an equal amount of desperation and aggression that kept him interested. The movie was filmed in a gritty, shaky style with dark shadows covering the people and exuded bleakness in every shot. The characters spewed hot air as they mulled over how to kill the bear. Bobby was left itching for the next victim just so they would move on with the action.

To his disappointment, the bear's next kill was filmed in an odd way. Different angles showing the aftermath of the bear's attack such as a horse's legs and one of the characters, Scott, falling over left Bobby digging his fingernails into his cheek. The bear seemed to just wave his paw at Scott when it was meant for a strike, leaving Bobby to roll his eyes. The cacophony of trumpets and strings playing in the background as Scott gawked at the silently roaring grizzly made Bobby struggle to not burst into laughter.

“Ah, watch this. Is an iconic part of the film,” Mikhail said, a smile playing on his lips.

“Why didn't the bear kill 'im when he knocked the loser off his horse? Stupid thing didn't even finish him off right,” Bobby asked, and Mikhail clucked his tongue.

“Watch,” Mikhail huffed, and Bobby rolled his eyes as the bear covered Scott in straw and debris.

“This part’s filmed like crap. Chucky would've gotten the job done way better than this stupid bear,” Bobby snapped, and Mikhail frowned, earning Bobby the quiet victory of knowing he hit a nerve.

As Scott, bloodied and battered with dirt and muck caking his body, forced himself to his knees, the grizzly returned in all of his hulking, roaring glory. He made swift work of the wide-eyed Scott in his most dire hour, ending his life as the scene faded out to the gray forest and another character. Bobby's eyes widened, finding the action a staple in horror cinema. Killing someone when they thought they were free from despair was the work of a true monster.

“The bear takes no prisoners,” Mikhail said, pride in his voice, “as he defends his land.”

“Wish we saw it though,” Bobby interjected, feigning disinterest. He hunched forward, gripping his knees. “What, did they run outta budget to show the guy getting mauled?”

“But was a good part, yes?” Mikhail asked, and Bobby's lips quirked.

Bobby glanced at his feet, finding the wooden floorboards particularly interesting as he replied, “Not as good as Leatherface killin' Kirk with that hammer or killin' Franklin, but it was a good setup, I guess.” He flicked his head up. “Piss poor ending though. He should've been killed instead of changing it to that other guy at the good part.”

Mikhail shrugged. “Eh, movie is not for everyone. What I think is that the performance of the bear is good.”

His comment made Bobby straighten. The main character, who Bobby couldn't remember the name of, struggled in his out of control helicopter as it whirled in tune with the sputtering engine and clashing soundtrack. Bobby drummed his fingers on his knee as the helicopter crashed and tried to dissect Mikhail’s comment. The bear was obviously the villain while Mikhail hammed up his role as a protector of other campers. He stared at Mikhail, asking what he meant.

“See, grizzly is setting up attacks kind of like a wrestler. Is sort of thrilling in watching him see what move he will do,” Mikhail said, and Bobby groaned, shaking his head.

“Again with the wrestling thing? Come on, dude,” Bobby snorted, “wrestling's fake. Everyone and their mom knows that.”

Mikhail frowned, leering at Bobby with steel in his eyes. “So? Still fun to watch.”

“There ain't no payoff in any of that crap,” Bobby said, gesturing vaguely at the television. “What's the point in watchin' two guys grip each other's asses and pretend to get hurt?”

Bobby's word choices made Mikhail's eyebrows raise to his hairline. Humming, Mikhail crossed his legs and tilted his head, allowing Bobby to continue his rant.

“Also, this bear ain't nothin' like a wrestler! Don't wrestlers finish off their opponents in a gruesome way even if it's completely fake? This bear sure as hell ain't doin' that if they keep cutting out the good parts!” Bobby threw his hands up as one of the characters fired at the grizzly slowly approaching the helicopter. “Texas Chainsaw was made in '74, and they had the guts to show, y'know, the guts! Also, that's definitely a guy in a goddamn bear costume right now!”

Mikhail's expression slowly formed into one of true annoyance as Bobby spoke. His half-lidded gaze returned, and a sigh slipped past his lips. He set his hand to his cheek, asking, “So, am guessing the drama does not entice you? Besides, having gory kills does not make a movie good. Also, no, that is not a man in costume.”

“Neither does shying away from them and-!”

Bobby cut himself off. The heroic fanfare playing as the grizzly charged towards one of the characters holding his gun like a baseball bat left him speechless. Mikhail watched with rapt attention as the bear carved through Stober. Bright red blood spewed from Stober's mouth as he wailed for Kelly, and Bobby glanced at Mikhail, finding his eyes sparkling in a way he had not seen before. As the bear roared, Bobby mimicked Mikhail's posture, wondering who would be victorious when the credits rolled.

Kelly withdrew a bazooka from the helicopter and fired, blasting the bear into what Bobby assumed were tiny pieces. Fire plumped in mushroom clouds with bits of the bear's fur exploding away. Bobby's mouth dropped, and Mikhail sighed, patting his chest.

“That was the Jaws ending,” Bobby whispered, eyes wide, and Mikhail looked at him.

“What did you say?”

“Jaws! Haven't you seen Jaws?” Bobby blurted, fingers splaying out in tense shock. He leaped to his feet. Jabbing his pointer finger at the television, he shouted, “They ripped off the ending to Jaws!”

“Wha-? They did not!” Mikhail shouted, throwing his arms out.

“They did! That's how they kill the damn shark!” Bobby wheezed out a harsh peel of laughter. He shook his head, hair bouncing, and his mouth grew into a wild grin. “This stupid movie is a sham!”

Mikhail clenched his fists. “Is not!”

“Is too!” Bobby broke into a manic smirk. “Look it up! Go on a computer right now, and look up the ending of Jaws, and tell me when that movie came out! I bet this came out after Jaws, too!”

Mikhail's cheeks flushed with scarlet at Bobby's challenge. Heat pooled in his belly and face, and he gripped his elbows, standing his ground as Bobby guffawed. He glanced at the screen, lips pressing together. He did not want to admit that the ending of his favorite movie was exactly like Jaws, but giving Bobby any kind of admission only fueled Bobby's hysteria.

“Oh, wow! That's stupid! These morons couldn't even come up with an original ending!” Bobby wiped a tear from his eye, his laughter dying down.

“Are you finished?” Mikhail asked, gritting his teeth, but Bobby put his hand out, gasping for breath.

Bobby continued wheezing, holding his stomach and felt the ratty material of his jersey scratch his palms. He threw his head back, renewing his laughing fit as Mikhail watched. Stomping around in place, he pointed at Mikhail and high-pitched cackling bounced off his tongue.

“Jaws! This was just Jaws but with a dumb bear!” Bobby gasped for breath, his ruddy cheeks burning only for Mikhail to slap his hands onto Bobby’s shoulders.

Bobby's eyes became dinner plates, and he felt like gravity pressed down on his lips as Mikhail glared daggers at him. He shifted his gaze, the memory of being threatened with Mikhail’s Deadly Nelson etched in his mind. Before he could fully contemplate that fear, he was suddenly spun around by Mikhail.

“H-hey! What the hell are you-? Stop it!” Bobby snatched the banister of the stairs as Mikhail tried to push him out of the room.

“Rudeness will not be tolerated. Get out, please,” Mikhail deadpanned, beginning to shove Bobby up the stairs.

“Quit pushin'! You can't just kick me out 'cause I'm right! I ain't gonna be budged!”

Mikhail hummed, shrugged, and then set two fingers to his temple. In an instant, Bobby was dangling upside-down, firmly held by Mikhail's telekinetic hand. His arms were pinned behind his back, and he writhed, head bobbing back and forth.

As a slew of curses slipped through the gaps in Bobby's teeth, Mikhail carried him up the steps. Flicking his wrist, Mikhail grinned as he dropped Bobby onto the stage where Quentin and Phoebe left their instruments. Bobby’s forehead smacked against the floorboards, and his subsequent yelp made Mikhail grin. While Bobby rubbed his head and sat upright, Mikhail slammed the door shut. The door clicked, and Mikhail's footsteps receded down the steps. 

Chef Cruller's hollow laughter echoed in the otherwise silent lodge as Bobby rubbed his head. “He got the drop on ya, didn't he, boy?” Ford asked, as he waved his rusty spatula. He tended to the burgers, hiccups of laughter bubbling up his throat.

Snarling at the chef to shut up, Bobby shot to his feet and glared at the doorknob. Setting his left index finger to the brass lock above the doorknob and three fingers near his temple, Bobby slowly maneuvered his extended finger. He sensed the inner mechanisms of the locks, the way the gears and points needed to be spun and pressed. His finger was the key as it shifted, sending telekinetic pulses against the pins and lifting them until a click satisfied his ear drums.

Bobby ripped the door open, shouting, “Ha! Stupid! You're just mad since I'm right and-!”

Bobby's threat died in his throat as a feeble bird's squawk. Mikhail stood with a wooden chair over his shoulder, staring at Bobby like a batter to a pitcher. He crouched, ready to attack, and Bobby took a step back, looking over his shoulder as if to call out for Ford.

“Your speciality is psychic lockpicking, so I came prepared in case of round two,” Mikhail said, and Bobby paled, raising his open palms.

Bobby waved his hands. “Uh, h-hey, hold o-on! P-put-put that chair down!”

“Ah, I knew scare tactic would work against bully,” Mikhail said, dumping the chair over the ledge and hearing it clatter on the floor behind him. “Not to worry. It was just for show and a little startling. So, easy does it now.”

“Wh-wh-what the hell, man?” Bobby blurted, expression wrinkling in distrust. His fingernails itched his palms, and he watched Mikhail saunter back to his bean bag chair. As Mikhail sat down, Bobby scratched his forearm, coarse skin flaking off like dust in the air.

Mikhail cleared his throat, picking up the remote. He tossed it at Bobby, and Bobby bounced it in his hands, nearly dropping it. His flustered expression made Mikhail's lips twitch into a grin. Clutching the remote, Bobby squinted at Mikhail and crept down the steps. Standing by the television, he changed the channel to the opening introduction of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

“Let's watch your movie. See if it's any better,” Mikhail said, and Bobby sneered, taking his spot back on the bean bag chair.

“It's one of the best horror flicks ever made. It doesn't shy away from the murders and the ending scene is actually original,” Bobby said, and he snickered through closed lips. “Not like that bear movie would know anything about original concepts.”

Mikhail raised two fingers to his temples, and Bobby quickly shut his mouth. Grinning as Bobby leaned away, Mikhail smiled at his scowling companion. Bobby hunched forward, mumbling obscenities under his breath.

“This is a way better movie,” Bobby muttered, hoping to have the last word.

Mikhail shrugged, deciding to not continue their roundabout conversation. Reclining in his seat, he adjusted his hat and asked, “What is premise of this movie? I have never seen it.”

Bobby smirked and crooned, “Oh, you'll find out.”

As the scene changed to grotesque corpses in a graveyard with the melting sunset in the background and dust blowing in the forefront, Mikhail had a feeling he was going to be watching something particularly disgusting, and Bobby kept grinning as the title flashed on the screen.


End file.
